


Politics and Affection (FrUk Loving You Through Time Event)

by FinduilasLissesul



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, FrUkLovingYouThroughTime, M/M, event
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 09:50:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4300185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinduilasLissesul/pseuds/FinduilasLissesul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Empress Matilda, daughter of Henry I of England and Normandy is having an arranged marriage with the young son of the Count of Anjou. Arthur comes with her as an advisor and his job is to get this marriage to work. However, not everything goes as planned in Medieval Europe. <br/>Note: Everything they say is supposed to be in French, because that was the language spoken in Normandy and by the nobles in England as well after William the Conqueror invaded England in 1066.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Politics and Affection (FrUk Loving You Through Time Event)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the event by frukheaven on tumblr - FrUkLovingYouThroughTime. This is certainly not the best I've written, but it'll have to do.

“Your Majesty.”

  
     The lady just continued to stare out through the curtains covering the window of the carriage humping along the uneven road.

  
     “Your Majesty, at least pretend as if you are listening to what I say.” The young man seated opposite the woman sighed.   
     Outside, despite it being early June, there was a heavy downpour. The green fields and forests were barely visible through the grey curtain of water drops surrounding them.

  
     “Your Majesty; sulking will do you no good. This need to happen, you know that.”

  
     The lady swiftly turned her head to look at her traveling companion. If only looks could kill, he’d be a dead man. He was, however, used to such treatment and though he ignored it, he noted her behaviour.

  
     “Arthur, I know my father has ordered you to stay by my side, but do not for a second believe that I actually want you here, or that you can possibly understand how I feel.” There arose a small pause before she continued. “I was an empress. I still am! How can my father do this to me? Make me marry a Count! He is even eleven years younger than me! He is thirteen! Such degrading am I forced to go through with. And I certainly do not want any pity from you, you… what are you? The boy of a Lord? Earl?”

  
     Arthur put a strained smile on.

  
     “A knight actually. And I am not a boy – I am eighteen.”

  
     “Oh, good Lord! What in heaven’s name was my father thinking?”

  
     “Your Majesty Matilda, I can assure you that I am more than capable for the tasks awaiting us, otherwise there would be someone else sitting here in my place, enjoying your – as always – charming and delightful presence at this very moment.”

  
     Matilda snorted, but looked out the window again.

  
     “And what exactly is your assignment?”

  
     “To advice you and to make sure no harm will befall you.”

  
     “Yes I know what a courtier is.”

  
     Arthur furrowed his rather large eyebrows. He had known the former empress was made out to be a bit stubborn, and not to mention rude, but this was certainly more than he had bargained for.

  
     “ _Your Majesty_. I know you do not want to go through with this, but we are in France now. You are going to marry a French count in three days whether you like it or not, and it would not hurt to have a true British courtier by your side. Your father, King Henry I, picked me for a reason. Namely because I am qualified for this job. Now if you would be so kind as to let me do it. If the French see we are not at terms among ourselves, they could use it against us and against England. Just let me do my job and you will hardly notice I am here.”

  
     “You know what? I can take care of myself. I do not need your services or aid. You will speak only when spoken to and when I allow it.” She stared intently at him to let the words sink in before she turned to look at the rain again. Then she muttered to herself. “At least we both hate the French.”

  
     Arthur huffed. The only thing in his mind right now was that at least there was only an hour left until they reached the castle. So he joined his companion to watch what they could see of nature due to the heavy downpour.

  
     They barely spoke during the rest of their trip. At times Arthur found it difficult being in the Royal’s presence. She infuriated him. Although, he did admire her in a strange way. He found the twenty-four year old was much like himself in certain ways. Matilda spoke her mind and did not put up with people who wanted to make a fool out of her. A resolute woman. Arthur actually looked forward to their collaboration. As soon as she would stop looking at him as if he was a much unwelcome mud stain on her all too fancy dress that was.

  
     Once they reached the castle and the carriage drove on the bridge over the moat, it passed through the gates and came to a halt in front of the entrance. Although it was still raining, a small party stood by the stairs to the castle doors to greet them. Two of the guards that had accompanied their carriage stepped down from it and opened the doors for Matilda and Arthur. They strode out, the former empress in the lead. She seemed to have no rush and carried herself with grace towards the awaiting servants.

  
     “Your Majesty, please, his Highness Geoffrey, is waiting for you inside.” The servants stepped aside to let the highborn walk up the stairs first, Arthur following behind.

  
     Another pair of guards swung open the huge castle doors for them, letting them into the building, providing a cover for the current weather.

  
     There was a small hall just inside before they entered the main lounge, which also seemed to work as the dining room. A fire poured a long-desired warmth into the huge space, along with several candles also providing light for those present. Down the massive walls of stone hung drapes coloured in symbol of the Count of Anjou. In the middle stood a long table surrounded by chairs and already served with plates of food.

  
     In front of the table stood a young man – or rather a boy – in fashionable clothes and a smile glued on his face. His long red hair encircled a handsome face. By his side were several nobles, courtiers, and a person who could be no other than his father. The older man stepped up to greet them, bowing down to kiss the princess’ hand.

  
     “Welcome, your Imperial Majesty Matilda, to our castle here in Le Mans. I am Foulques V d’Anjou and this – ” He made a gesture towards the boy. “– this is my son and your future husband, Geoffrey. Standing next to him is his advisor, Francis. I trust he will work for both of you, planning the wedding.”

  
     Matilda looked rather unimpressed during the greeting and answered coldly.

  
     “I thank you for you hospitality, your Highness. This is my advisor, Arthur. You may borrow him for your needs involving the planning.”

  
     Arthur made a short bow to the Count. Great. It may seem to the others as if she put trust him, but he knew she was just throwing the boring work at him so she would be free of it. Arthur cast a short glance at the man they had called Francis. He seemed to be eyeing him as well. He had shoulder-long, golden hair and a small stubble on his chin. He could not be much older than Arthur himself, maybe two or three years. Francis gave him a smirk. Arthur frowned. He did not like this man. He looked very French and intolerable – which was basically the same thing.

  
     “A pleasure to meet you both. Would you please join us for dinner? You must have had a long drive all the way from Normandy. Here, have a seat.”

  
     The count showed them to their seats by the table and everyone else followed their example. Soon the chatter began along the sides of the table as the people filled their empty stomachs. Foulques tried to engage the indifferent Matilda in a conversation. She however, kept glaring at his son who sat opposite her, by the Count’s right hand. Arthur noticed the poor boy looked terrified. He would have been as well, if it would have been him to marry that beast of a woman.

  
     “It pleases me that our houses will be joined once again. It was certainly terrible what happened to your brother. To drown by such young age. Therefore, it was delightful surprise when your father announced he wanted another wedding between the two of you. Although, I am sorry I will not stay for long after the wedding. I am afraid I have to depart for Jerusalem. You see, I am going to be a king there someday. After I marry the current king’s daughter that is. Then Geoffrey will inherit my title as Count here, and you will be a Countess. Is that not terrific?”

  
     He looked at Matilda with sparkles in his eyes. Arthur noticed a twitch in her upper lip as she answered.

  
     “Yes, certainly.”

  
     He looked down at his chicken and grinned to himself. She was still sore about that empress title.

  
     The dinner dragged on and on as the count blabbered on and they all had their fourth glass of wine. Through the small window cracks, they could see the dark night sky – it had cleared up and it was getting late.

  
     “You Majesty, it have been an absolute delight having you here with us this evening. We have prepared a separate room for you and your advisor until the wedding night. Geoffrey would show the lady her chambers?”

  
     “Of course, father.”

  
     The boy arose from the table and Matilda did the same, Arthur followed her example.

  
     Geoffrey lead them to a hallway and then up a few stairs into another hallway. The soon to be married walked side-by-side while the nervous child tried to make conversation, with Arthur trailing behind. The boy’s advisor, Francis had also joined them, walking with Arthur. The man made him slightly uncomfortable. He was wearing a long, blue tunic without sleeves and a golden shirt beneath it. The man turned slightly to look at him. Arthur scowled.

  
     “What?”

  
     “Why on earth would you have your hair like that? That is not fashionable at all; it looks like a bird’s nest.” He furrowed his eyebrows. 

  
     Arthur lost his breath. His whole body grew tense. He was furious. He wanted to strangle Francis and free him of his pitiful life.

  
     “How dare you? It is not supposed to be fashionable! It is practical and I like it! And at least I do not have a poor excuse for beard!”

  
     “What?!”

  
     “You heard me! No one has a beard like that! Can you not grow a proper one?”

  
     That seemed to infuriate the other and Arthur snickered as Francis pursed his lips in a sneer.

  
     “Well at least _I_ do not concentrate the total growth of my hair on my eyebrows.”

  
     That did it. Arthur flung around, grabbed him by his collar, and smacked him against the wall of stone. Francis lost his breath due to the impact but soon regained it and kicked his attacker on the leg. Arthur cursed in pain and lost his grip. Francis then made a go for his hair and tugged his head back. A loud hawk suddenly interrupted them and pulled their attention towards the pair further down the hallway.

  
     Matilda stared with anger at the two of them.

  
     “Arthur! This is our room.” She pointed to the door in front of them.

  
     He let go of Francis and strode over to his superior, a tad ashamed of his behaviour. He bowed slightly and held the door agape for her Majesty. She simply huffed and then turned to her fiancé.

  
     “You should have better control of your subordinates, Geoffrey. I trust this will not happen again.”

  
     “O-of course not, your Majesty. I am terribly sorry.” The poor boy bowed.

  
     Matilda looked down on him.

  
     “Very well, I accept your apology. Good night, your Highness.”

  
     “Good night, your Majesty.”

  
     Matilda turned and walked into the room. Arthur cast a small glance towards Francis and sneered as he pulled the door shut. The bedroom was not very large, but contained everything they needed. Arthur spotted a small bed in the corner, probably meant for him. As soon as they were alone, the former empress turned to him.

  
     “Arthur, what the hell was that? I expect you to behave accordingly when you are in my service. It is bad enough that I had to endure that pathetic Count blabbering on about himself all night long. And his son is very lucky that he is so handsome, or I would have left this godforsaken place the moment I got here.” She sat down on the bed and closed her eyes as she sighed. “At least they had our luggage brought to our room.”

  
     Arthur stood by the door, uncertain of what to do. His hatred for the French had grown immensely the last few minutes. However, it was also his job to keep the princess here and to a certain degree happy.

  
     “At least he will not put up much of a fight, it seems like you could do whatever you want here, and no one here will stop you.”

  
     Matilda scowled at him.

  
     “Empress. I was an empress, Arthur. I could already do what I wanted. The only difference now is that what I can do is much more limited. Now, are you going to stand there all night or will you help me out of my clothes?”

  
     Arthur sighed but moved over to her nonetheless.

  
     “I am _not_ your handmaiden, your Majesty.”

  
     “You are the only thing I have right now, so you will have to do.”

  
     “As you wish.”

***

     “I hate her! Why do I have to marry her? She is so old!” Geoffrey paced around his chambers. Francis lazed about on a couch, sipping wine and watching his young master.  
  
     “Well, you just might become king of England and Normandy. And she has been married before, so she is probably quite skilled in the bedroom.” Francis winked at him.

  
     “And you, Francis! You are supposed to be my advisor! Even though you cannot behave yourself in front of her. You made a fool out of me.”  
  
     Francis furrowed his eyebrows and sat up.

  
     “I am sorry, your Highness, but you cannot possibly expect me to cooperate with that – that simple creature. Although her Majesty is not fully English, he is – you can hear his horrible accent. And he is so rude!”

  
     “I do not care! Even though I do not want to marry her, I understand that I have to, and I will not have you sabotaging this marriage. Just grit your teeth and endure it!”

  
     Francis frowned.

  
     “Understood, your Highness. However, you should take your own advice as well. Try to please her Majesty. Take her for a stroll tomorrow, show her the charming forest and bring something for you to eat. I am sure she will warm up to you.” Francis held the glass of wine up to his mouth for a zip.

  
     “Not a bad idea. I will do that.” He turned to face Francis. “And you are coming as well!” Francis choked on the wine, coughed and hunched over.

  
     “Y-you can’t –ark– mean that. Why?”

  
     “Why not? I am sure Arthur will be there as well, and you two have a lot to discuss about the wedding. It would even be better to do it outside than inside in a stuffy, cold room.” Francis huffed. “Besides, I do not want to be alone with her for more than I have to.” Geoffrey added meekly.

  
     Francis stared blankly at nothing in particular as the Count’s son undressed and made ready for bed. His thoughts wandering to Matilda’s advisor. How would he ever be able to get through the next day?

***

The sound of someone knocking on the door the next day woke Arthur and Matilda up. Matilda yelled sharply for her advisor to get the bloody door. Arthur groaned as he swung his feet over the edge of the bed. He slipped on his garments and stood to answer the door. Behind it, he found a maid, who went inside as soon as he opened the door.

  
     “E-excuse me, what are you doing here?” Arthur stood by, still holding the handle.

  
     The young girl bowed.

  
     “I am here on orders from the Count to help her Majesty get dressed, so if you would please leave us alone…”

  
     Arthur looked questionably at Matilda who had sat up in bed to see what was going on. After a yawn, she nodded at Arthur who then carefully slipped out through the door.'

  
     When standing outside their chambers in the hallway, he stared blankly at nothing for a few seconds. What was he supposed to do now? Feeling a slight hunger, he decided he might as well walk down to the dining area for breakfast. Matilda was sure to follow as soon she was dressed.

  
     Arthur descended the stairs in the end of the hallway and made his way to the main room. The smell of food filled the air as he drew closer. Stepping out into the room, the first thing he saw was that bloody Frenchman from last night. He sat by the table, snacking on a piece of bread. Arthur could feel a rage filling him.

  
     Francis looked up to see the English advisor staring at him. Great. He had to at least _try_ to be polite, even if the simpleton could not understand the meaning of such a word. Therefore, he forced a smile to his face and looked back at the unpleasant man in the doorway.

  
     “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

  
     Arthur just stared at the other. What was with him today? Why was he suddenly acting nice? Arthur figured Geoffrey had to have told him to behave after their… episode last night. Well, he himself intended to do no such thing.

  
     “Barely, the beds are too soft. No wonder you French are such wimps.” To see Francis struggling not to do anything rash honestly lightened his mood considerably as he sat down at the table, across from the other.

  
     “I am sure that if you would like to sleep on the floor with the pigs, it could be arranged.” Francis smirked.

  
     “Oh really? You do not have to give up your place to me you know.” Arthur spoke through gritted teeth.

  
     “Oh no I insist. I think you are more deserving of it anyway. Although, I do not know if the pigs would be thrilled to have someone dirtier than themselves sleeping with them. You would have to talk them into it – I am sure English and the grunts they use are not too different.”

  
     Arthur was fuming. How dared he? He arose from his seat with a great force and leaned over to grab the other’s collar. Their eyes met in a staring battle where either part did not want to look away. It felt like sparks of electricity were filling the air between them.

  
     “Do _not_ anger me, _French_.” Arthur’s voice was slow and dark.

  
     Francis did not waver. He simply smiled cunningly and continued to stare back at him, and spoke with the same dangerous tone, the words dripping with poison.

  
     “Or what?”

  
     At that moment, one of the doors opened and in strode Geoffrey. The two at the table were too busy killing each other with looks only, and did not take notice of the soon-to-be Count as he came in. He watched them bewilderedly as they stood there completely still, not taking their eyes off the other. A few seconds went by until Geoffrey understood what was happening. He sighed before he collected himself again. Although Arthur was the one grabbing Francis, he called out his own advisor.

  
     “Francis!”

  
     They both broke the staring contest and looked over at the young man. However, Arthur did not let go of Francis until another door opened and Matilda walked in. He then sat back down on his chair and grabbed a piece of bread. Matilda moved over and took the chair beside him. Geoffrey was still standing in the other side of the room. After his fiancé had sat down, he made his way over to his own seat, across from her. Arthur and Francis did not say a word, but they were still glaring at each other as they ate.

  
     Geoffrey cleared his throat before he spoke.

  
     “Your Majesty, Francis and I were wondering if you and your advisor would want to accompany us for the day. I would like to show you some of the forest around here. It is quite beautiful.”

  
     Matilda looked at him with a bored expression.

  
     “I suppose we could.” She did not bother to elaborate and went straight back to eating her bread and ham. It took a second before Arthur realized what had happened.

  
     “Wait, what? Why do I have to come? Surely you could manage one day without me.”

  
     Geoffrey took the liberation to answer.

  
     “I thought it would be relaxing for all of us and then you and Francis could discuss the plans for the wedding at the same time.”

  
     Francis sighed as Arthur looked at him with disgust. However, neither of them said anything else, so the meal continued in silence.

***

     At the stable, they were saddling up the horses they would use for the outing. Or rather, Geoffrey had Francis do it and Arthur seized the opportunity to share a few words with his employer.

  
     “Certainly, your Majesty, this is highly unnecessary, there really is no need for this.”

  
     “Will you shut up already? We are in this shite together, and I cannot stand the thought of being with that child alone for even a second.”

  
     “Then say you are not feeling well and we both get away with it!”

  
     “Gladly, but I cannot. For my honour’s sake that is. Besides, the castle is terrible and I would like to escape it if for just one day. Now shut up and just pretend to enjoy it. And stop trying to kill his advisor. Do not think for even a second that I did not see you two this morning. Seriously, do you not have any self-control?”

  
     “You should have heard him yourself! He was-”

  
     “Arthur! Shut up and do as I say!”

  
     “Yes, your Majesty.” Arthur put on a pout. This day was just getting worse by the minute. He could not bear to imagine the horrors that lay before him. They both turned as the French came up to them with a horse each, saddled and ready. Arthur grumpily took the rein Francis held out for him and shot the other a glare, which was immediately returned.

  
     All four of them got on the horses and began leading them towards the gate. Arthur leant down to caress the animal. He quite liked animals, and the poor horse could not help being owned by the French so he decided to go easy on him.

  
     They rode out on the country road, Geoffrey leading the way and the rest following right behind. Arthur was certain that Francis had given him the slowest horse on purpose. Not that there was any space on the road to ride beside each other, but there was still the fact that he was making up the rear of the party. He ended up growling silent for himself while glaring at the very French back in front of him.

  
     After nearly twenty minutes on the horseback, they came to the beginning of a forest. Lovely trees stretched high above them, enveloping them in all shades of green. They slowed down the pace, and well in between the trees, they came to a halt. The horses were tied to a few branches so that they had plenty of green grass to eat while their riders were away. Francis relieved the animals for the food and equipment they had brought along and made it ready to carry. Matilda _kindly_ asked Arthur to help the man before they set off. Geoffrey and Matilda walking side by side up first, Arthur and Francis following behind.

  
     Not many words were exchanged while they walked down a small path. The two in the back did not hear the conversation of the couple in front due to that they had their backs turned on them. The only thing they could gather was that it was very awkward.

  
     A few minutes of walking brought them to a clearing where they sat down the food and began preparing for lunch. A small water lay in the outskirts of the meadow; the wind carefully rippled the surface, making small waves in the reflection of the oak trees. The trees provided a welcome shadow, which they placed themselves beneath. Out of the bags, Francis pulled a jug with wine, four cups, bread, cheese, ham and other delicacies. He placed all of it on the ground, ready for consumption.

  
     They all sat down beside the food, an awkward silence arising. Nothing was spoken for several seconds before Geoffrey finally said something.

  
     “Please, your Majesty, help yourself. I hope everything will be to your liking.”

  
     “So do I.” Matilda looked unimpressed down at a piece of cheese before she picked it up. Francis was then quick to break the incredible weird tension.

  
     “Well then, let us all enjoy the food and eat it before the animals do.” With that, he began helping himself of the ham and bread.

  
     Arthur figured he wanted to be done with all of this nonsense rather quickly, so he started eating as well. Internally he cursed himself for ever being assigned to this _mission_. It was clear that the princess did not need his help. But if she kept this childishness up she might.

  
     Around them, the wind played with the long grass and leaves on the trees bathing in sunlight, creating an entire colour spectrum of green.

  
     “This bread is rather dry for my taste. And is this cheese supposed to smell like this? It is dreadful.” Matilda still had a serious expression on her face, but Arthur knew she did this only to provoke. He sighed mentally and closed his eyes disheartened. She just _had_ to make this whole thing worse than it already was. He cleared his throat.

  
     “If you would excuse me, I need to find some running water to drink.” He got up on his feet, ready to get away from this as fast as possible.

  
     “Why would you need that? We already have wine.” Francis looked questionably at him.

  
     “Whatever you chose to call that plonk, I will not drink it. I need something pure to wash away the taste of this food.” A smirk crept up on his face. I knew he had just done the same as Matilda, but he was not a princess set to marry the young Count. Besides, it was Francis.

  
     Francis growled. What else should he expect from an uncultured Englishman? Despite all the hateful feelings inside, he figured this was just the opportunity he was looking for.

  
     “In that case, I will go with you. You would probably get lost in the woods without someone who knows the local area, and we would not want that, would we?” He smiled, if somewhat forced, to Arthur.

  
     Arthur snorted, but did not say anything. He guessed it was not worth getting lost here in the woods, even if he did have to walk with the Frenchman. He simply turned his back to them and began walking away. The shuffling from behind revealed that Francis had followed. Once they cleared the field and found themselves in the woods, both of them let out a relived sigh.

  
     “So where to?”

  
     “You really want the water? I thought this was just a clever plan to get away from them, but you are apparently not that smart.”

  
     “It was both you idiot. Now show the way or you can go back there and help with their conversation. I am sure they would welcome your company more than I.”

  
     “Hah! Nice try, _Anglais_. You will not get rid of me that easy. And if you insist; just continue right ahead. I will show you.”

  
     They continued through the forest. The trees did not grow that thick, so they did not have to stray too much. There was a great variety of species of wood there, and on the ground, between the grass and moss, Arthur could recognize several plants and flowers. He had to admit that the whole atmosphere there was truly enchanting. In front of him, the slim figure of Francis moved gracefully, his long golden hair swaying back and forth.

  
     “Matilda is truly one of a kind, how do you put up with her?” Francis looked back over his shoulder at the other man. Arthur huffed.

  
     “She is exceptional. I have never met another woman like her. It just takes – ahem – a great deal of patience.”

  
     “I am sure. I would almost feel sorry for you if you were not deserving of each other.” Francis smirked as Arthur came up to walk beside him.

  
     “At least _I_ do not have to babysit. To watch over a thirteen year old boy is hardly an honour – more like a chore nobody wants to do. A punishment.”

  
     “Ah, but you see, it is there you are wrong. He is young, therefore easier to manipulate. _And_ he will be Count in a few days. That is a lot of power for a little boy.”

  
     “Yes, but he will be marrying _Matilda_.”

  
     “… I see your point.”

  
     They walked in silence for a few seconds.

  
     “She really does hate him doesn’t she?”

  
     “Very much so yes. She was an Empress. He is a kid. Not to mention French.”

  
     “Well, he is not too fond of her either. Why is she even doing this in the first place? You would think a woman of her capacity would get what she wants.”

  
     “You would think. However, when your father is the King of England and Normandy, your possibilities are limited. At least Geoffrey is trying. That is far more than you can say for Matilda. But I need this to work out. It is my job to secure this alliance. King Henry will be furious if I fail.” Arthur sighed.

  
     “Well, leaving them alone in the forest will hardly do any good, if not worsen the situation.”

  
     “Shut up! This whole trip was your suggestion in the first place! It is not as if I wanted this! I am merely making sure I will not die when the two of them decide they have had enough of each other and want to bash their brains out.”

  
     “Well, I did not plan to participate in this either! But I need this to work just as much as you do. So let us try to work together at least.” Francis scowled at Arthur.

  
     “As if I would ever cooperate with a French!” Arthur glared back. “But I guess we could try not to ruin it completely in any case.”

  
     “I will take that as a yes then.” Francis grinned at the Englishman. He thought he had begun to understand this creature now.

  
     They continued to bicker until they reached a small stream. It flowed gracefully between the trees, making twists and turns everywhere, cutting the landscape in two.

  
     “There you have your water. Now, just take your time, I do not want to go back at once. The more time away from the two of them, the better.”

  
     “Yeah, yeah.” Arthur hunched down by the stream, then paused for a second before he hesitantly spoke. “Do you happen to have a cup or something?”

  
     “Seriously? You should have thought of that before you came out here! Stupid brit! Just bend down and drink directly from the stream or use your hands as a cup! It is not that hard.”

  
     “I know, I know! It would just have been preferable if I had a real cup!”

  
     “Whatever! Just drink already!” Francis stood back, his weight on one foot, watching the brit closing down on the water. An idea began lighting in his head and he smirked to himself. Carefully he sneaked up behind him and reached his hands out. With one swift push, Arthur ended up head first in the clear water.

  
     Arthur did not know what was happening before the water came towards him and swallowed him whole, drenching his clothes and getting everywhere. He struggled to get a grip on anything, his feet still on dry and higher land. He tried to breathe, but he could not. Finally, his hands reached the bottom and he got a steady grip on the ground. When the rest of his body joined him in the water, he could rise his head above it, taking deep gasps for air. It did not take long for him to understand what had happened. In front of him Francis stood, hunched over with laughter.

  
     “You bloody git! Fuck you!” Arthur stood up and jumped on the grass to get a hold of the Frenchman. This did not prove difficult when Francis was too busy howling with laughter. Arthur felt a blush creep up on his cheeks. He did not think he had actually seen Francis laughing yet. He honestly did not look so bad when he had a smile on his face. With a solid grip on his collar, Arthur swung him around so that he too landed in the water. A very un-manly shriek escaped him as the wet cold enveloped him. Now it was Arthur’s turn to snicker.

  
     Francis sat up in the middle of the stream, his drenched hair blocking his view. He growled as he pulled his locks back. Above him, on the banks, he could see a very wet Englishman standing triumphantly, grinning. He extended a finger to point at Francis.

  
     “Hah! That is what you get for trying to mess with me!” His forest green eyes lit with a unique flam captured Francis completely. He ended up staring dumbfounded back for a few seconds. Then he smirked evilly before grabbing the arm in front of him and hauled Arthur back down into the stream. That led to another round of splashing around until they both had secured their heads above the water. So then, they just sat there, side by side.

  
     “You are a dumb fuck.”

  
     “Same to you, _cher_.”

  
     “You started it.”

  
     “You just looked so very … pushable.”

  
     “That is not even a real word.” Arthur got to his feet.

  
     Francis shrugged his shoulders. Then he followed Arthur onto the grass.

  
     “Now look what you did!” Francis looked down on his soaked clothes. “These are very expensive you know!”

  
     “I really do not care. Mine are in the same condition, and that is your fault! However, the most important thing now is what to do with them.”

  
     Francis smiled.

  
     “We have to take them off!”

  
     “What?!”

  
     “Yes! We have to undress right now!”

  
     “No, we do fucking not!”

  
     “Yes! They need to dry, and you cannot walk around in the forest with wet clothes, you will get sick.”

  
     “Well, you cannot walk around in nature _without_ clothes either! They can dry while I wear them.”

  
     “Why not? Why not walk in nature the way nature created you?”

  
     “Fine! Just do whatever you want, I will not be taking mine off.”

  
     “Suit yourself then.”

  
     Francis proceeded to strip down to his undergarments. When he got that far, Arthur meant it was more than enough, so he kept those on. He wrenched his clothes before he swung them over his shoulder so they could dry. Then he took a strand of hair between his fingers and smacked his lips.

  
     “My hair is ruined now thanks to you.”

  
     “Yeah well, so is mine.”

  
     “ _Oui_ , but mine was actually worth saving.”

  
     “Are you implying my hair is bad?” Arthur narrowed his eyes.

  
     “It certainly cannot compete with mine, it makes you look like a savage, and nobody cuts their hair like that.”

  
     “I do! It is the only hairstyle that suits me, now shut up and begin walking!”

  
     They started heading in the same direction they had come from. They walked side by side in silence, occasionally throwing looks at the other when they were not watching. Francis tried to picture Arthur with different hairstyles to see if Arthur had been right. It put him in deep thought and he struggled to find one that would suit him. Arthur on the other hand tried not to admire Francis’ slim but muscular body. He was close to the Count so it would only be natural for him to be in good shape. Arthur bet he could still beat him in combat though.

  
     They had both been in so deep thought that they did not notice how they had strayed off course. Suddenly Francis stopped, looking around. Arthur paused after a few more steps and turned to face the other.

  
     “Is there something wrong?”

  
     “I do not know where we are. Did you notice we changed directions or something?”

  
     “What? We did? Then it should be in that direction, right?” Arthur pointed just left of where they had been going. “Come on, you are supposed to be guiding me here, and you cannot even find the way back to the meadow! How did you manage that?”

  
     “I was _thinking_! You should try it sometimes; I heard it is healthy for you.” Francis glared back at the brit. “Come on then, _Anglais_. Maybe we can get back before they kill each other.”

  
     “We would already have been there if you had not decided to play in the water!”

  
     “Shut up! Let us go!” Francis turned in the direction Arthur had pointed and stumped ahead. At least then Arthur could not see his blush. He strode between to large trees.

  
     “Hey, watch out!” Arthur reached out and grabbed his arm as Francis felt the ground give out under his feet.

  
     A yelp escaped him as he fell only to be stopped by Arthur. Looking down he could see big stakes with their pointy side facing upwards, towards him. After finally he was able to tear his eyes from his would-be certain death and up to his saviour. Arthur was gripping a tree with his other arm and struggling to keep Francis weight up. Through gritted teeth he spoke.

  
     “Get. Up. You. Git.”

  
     Francis changed his grip and grabbed for the edge as well, and with shared strength, they managed to hoist him up from the hole. Both sank to their knees breathing heavily.

  
     “What the hell was that?!” Francis exclaimed.

  
     “A pitfall, stupid. I presume people hunt in these woods. Anyone could have seen that obvious a trap. Might as well have put up a giant sign. How could you _not_ see that? God, I was worried there a second.” Arthur sighed relieved, but then he caught himself. “I-I mean, not that I care, just… it would have been suspicious if I have returned alone, yes? They would have thought I killed you or something. That is why I saved you by the way. Do not get any other ideas!” At the end of it, he was shouting and his face was scarlet. Francis decided to ignore the insults for this time. A grin came to his face and he snickered. Arthur was somewhat adorable when flustered.

  
     “Well, since you have just saved my life, I guess I have to treat you better now, huh?” He winked at the other. Arthur growled back.

  
     “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Arthur stood up and extended an arm as to help Francis to his feet. Clearly surprised by his own actions, he just stared blankly at Francis and was met with a similar look. Before Arthur could pull his hand back, Francis had grabbed it and used it to rise to his feet.

  
     “What is this, Arthur? Are you really a gentleman after all?” Francis smirked teasingly, still with a firm grip on his hand.

  
     Arthur glared devilish at him and pulled the hand back. Then he stomped off in the set direction without looking back to see if the other joined him.

  
     Eventually they reached the meadow where they had left the royal pair. A sour mood met them, and a few questions arose as to why Arthur’s clothes were drenched in water, and Francis was practically naked. Somehow, they managed to answer them not too awkwardly before they decided enough was enough and headed home to the castle. There, they ate dinner together with the Count and a few nobles staying there for the wedding, before they retreated to their rooms.

  
     “So, Arthur. Did you and Francis get much planning done today?” Matilda lay sprawled out on her bed, staring at the roof. Arthur was folding his clothes for the night.

  
     “Hm? Oh, eh… not exactly, but I am sure we will finish it tomorrow. I heard they have already provided the food, so it is not much left to be done actually. And how did you enjoy  you day? I trust Geoffrey held you company while we were away.” Arthur grinned for himself, careful so Matilda would not discover.

  
     “Yes, it was tremendously entertaining. Thanks for that by the way.” She glared over at him while he shrugged his shoulders.

  
     “You are to spend the rest of either of your lives with him, you might as well get used to it.”

  
     “Yes, yes, I _will_ get back at you for leaving me, you know.”

  
     “I know.”

***

     The next day came and they all joined for breakfast. This time the Count himself accompanied them as well. As usual, he remained oblivious to the strained tension, or maybe he just did not care, and chattered on with everybody. They were all relieved when it came to an end. Arthur and Francis then prepared to go in to the town. They had people working there on the wedding the next day and Francis was supposed to show Arthur the preparation and to see if everything were in the right conditions. While Francis readied the horses, Matilda got a hold of her advisor.

  
     “Arthur!”

  
     “Yes, your Majesty?”

  
     “Make sure this wedding will not be a failure. You cannot trust these Frenchmen to do anything right, so oppose the things you think is necessary. Show him we will not go down so easily.”

  
     “Matilda, this is a wedding we are talking about, not a battle.” Arthur arched an eyebrow at her. “Besides; I would not take anything from that bastard, so you do not have to worry. However, are you going to be alright all alone here with Geoffrey?”

  
     “So _today_ you care?” She sighed. “I will be fine, it is a large property after all – I am sure I can avoid him here. Now go do your job!”

  
     Arthur gave a quick bow to her before walking over to Francis who awaited him with the horses. He had the same they had used the day before. Familiar with the animal, Arthur mounted it and rode after Francis through the castle gates. They did not talk much while they rode along the road leading in to the town. It lay in the opposite direction from the forest they had visited the other day, and a lot closer. So after about ten minutes, houses began appearing on the sides of the road.

  
     “Just wait until you see the cathedral – it is simply magnificent! A grand building fitting for such a wedding! I will show you around the town, I can assure you it is much more pleasant than your simple English villages.” Francis sent him a challenging smirk.

  
     “You are not supposed to show me around, you are supposed to show me the location for the wedding and discuss matters involving that.” Arthur growled back.

  
     “Ah, but I keep telling you; we have it covered. Mostly anyway. But of course we will be doing that too, it will not take long though, and there is not much to do back at the castle, so we might as well spend the day here.”

  
     “Fine, but I refuse to enjoy it.”

  
     “You do not have to, but I assure you; you will.” Another smug smile. “I will prove to you that we French are superior to _les Anglais_.”

  
     “Hah! Bring it.” Arthur stared at Francis challenging. “But business first of course.”

  
     Soon they reached the heart of the town and they could easily spot the cathedral, towering over most of the other buildings. As they closed in on it, Arthur had to admit; it was quite the sight. Build in stone and with beautiful details it stuck out from the otherwise simple houses around it.

  
     Francis noticed the awestruck expression on Arthur’s face and chuckled to himself. They tied the horses to a tree beside the building before they ascended the stairs to the entrance. Francis swung open the doors and strode inside, Arthur following close.

  
     Inside, there was a few people working on the decorations hanging from the roof on either side of the central vessel. Huge drapes coloured in the symbols of the families of Geoffrey and Matilda. The cathedral was illuminated by tall windows on both sides of the hall.

  
     Francis paid no attention to the workers, but strode up to a man watching them, which had to be the priest. He greeted him and told him why they were there. They chatted for a bit about the decorations and the ceremony itself. He noticed Arthur did not really say much, he just stood there looking around the building. Francis smiled; finally, he had managed to silence the man. He asked him, after talking to the priest, what he thought of the decorations.

  
     “They are alright. For being French, I mean. Could have been worse.”

  
     “Really, you think so highly of them?” He grinned at the other. “Now let me ask you a question. What are you wearing tomorrow?”

  
     “I beg your pardon? What sort of question is that?! And why would _you_ want to know?”

  
     “Oh please, I was just simply thinking that you surely cannot wear _those_ clothes, and I did not know if you had brought others. I would not want to disgrace Matilda after all.” He shrugged his shoulders.

  
     Arthur stuttered, a scarlet colour creeping up on his face.

  
     “W-well, I don’t know! Are these not good enough?”

  
     “God, you really did not bring better clothes. I guess we have to do something about that. Come on.” Francis gripped Arthur’s hand and dragged him out of the cathedral despite the protests from the other. They left the horses where they were and walked down the main street of the town. Francis knew a sewer nearby who often did work for the Count. But first they had to buy the fabric.

  
     “Oy! Francis, where are we going?”

  
     “You will see.” Francis grinned at him. Arthur simply pouted and looked away, but followed nonetheless. He could be cute that way, Francis had noticed.

  
     They entered a fabric shop down the road and Francis began picking out several fabrics for the outfit he had planned for Arthur. Nice green fabrics to match his eyes. They also reminded him of the day before, out in the forest. Arthur had looked stunning surrounded by the nature – as if he was in his right element. Francis paid and lifted it all onto the flustered Englishman’s arms before they exited the shop.

  
     “Francis!” Arthur hissed. “I can bloody well pay for my own clothes, besides; you do not have to do this. My own clothes work fine.”

  
     “No, I insist! This is the French hospitality remember? So what do you think of it so far?”

  
     “It is ridiculous and annoying!”

  
     “Honhonhon, you will change that attitude soon, _cheri_.” Francis winked at him. And now to the sewer. He lived a bit away from the centre of the village, so they had to walk a while before they reached his house. Francis used the time to tell Arthur the story of the city and point out details in the structure of the buildings in it. Finally, they were there. Francis knocked on the door and called out.

  
     “ _Bonjour_! Anyone home?”

  
     They heard steps closing in on them from inside before the door swung open and a young man with curly brown hair stood before them. His face lit up as he saw who it was.

  
     “Ah, Francis! It is good to see you, _amigo_! How have you been?” He smiled widely at both of them and proceeded to give them a hug, even Arthur whom he had not seen before.

  
     “Hello Antonio, a pleasure as always. It has been too long. I have been busy these last days with the wedding you know. This is Arthur, he is with the bride and from England.”

  
     “Oh, that explains it. I did not think he looked very French. Something with the attitude I guess.” He laughed before he continued. “What can I help you with today, Francis?”

  
     “Well, you see. Arthur here do not have any clothes to wear for tomorrow’s event.” He ignored Arthur’s protests. “And I was wondering if you could whip something up for him. Here, we already bought the fabric.”

  
     “Eh?! But that is very short notice, I do not know if I can finish it today.”

  
     “I have the money.”

  
     “Done! Come in!”

  
     They stepped inside the man’s home and into the main room. Antonio fetched a stool for Arthur to stand on and then proceeded to take measurements of his body while Francis blabbered on about the outfit he had in mind. Arthur felt very awkward during the whole process. Who were these people? How had he ended up there? He sighed and stepped down from the stool as the two friend discussed the design. Eventually they came to an agreement and soon after, they left.

  
     “Now let us get some food, I am starving.”

  
     “Fine! But I am paying this time!” Arthur fumed. He should not let the Frenchman boss him around like that. He was nobody’s plaything. It was hard to deny Francis anything though. With his blue capturing eyes and golden locks, he was gorgeous. Not that he would ever tell him that. Therefore, he went along to the market in town where they bought something to eat. Francis took the opportunity to flirt a bit with the local women. That irritated Arthur, although he could not find a reason as to why it should.

  
     They found a piece of grass as a hill to sit on in the outskirts of the village. They sat down and began eating their food. Arthur stole a few glances towards Francis. He seemed so content sitting there, looking out over the town. His golden hair flowed in the light breeze, framing his face perfectly. He cleared his throat and Francis turned to look at him.

  
     “Something wrong?” He almost sounded concerned, Arthur thought.

  
     “N-no, it is… the wedding! Yes, what are we missing?”

  
     “Well, the food is covered, I myself is actually going to assist with it tomorrow, so I can assure you; it will be perfect. I talked to the priest, the décor is ready, you finally got some decent clothes–”

  
     “I _have_ decent clothes!”

  
     “– and we have hired these musicians to play during dinner back at the castle – just wait until you hear them; they are terrific! They only thing we have not thought of yet is the seating arrangements. Which is a very important thing, as you probably know. Look, here; I brought the guest list.” Francis pulled out a piece of parchment with names scribbled on it, and then a blank piece and an inkpot with a quill on the side. Then they began discussing who should sit where.

  
     “Naturally, Geoffrey and Matilda will share the short end of the table, Foulques will sit by his son’s side. Who should sit by Matilda?”

  
     “Well, the king is not coming, so Robert of Gloucester would be the obvious choice. He is her half-brother after all. They are on good terms, so Matilda would not be too disappointed.”

  
     And so they kept on, arranging Lords and Ladies, Counts and Barons, and other highborn. They themselves would not sit by the table, but eat in the kitchen with other servants.

  
     “That is very unfair, don’t you think?”

  
     “ _Oui_ , but what are we to them? Not as important as the others, that is for sure.”

  
     “I will have you know the Empress thinks highly of me, despite how she treats me.”

  
     “Oh? Is it common practice in England to act hateful towards those you like?” Francis smirked at him. Arthur spluttered.

  
     “O-of course not! What are you insinuating here?!”

  
     “Oh, nothing, _mon cher_. Nothing at all. But not many people can resist my charms you know.” Francis grinned. Teasing him was just too much fun.

  
     “Fight me!” Arthur had stood up and pulled his sword. That took Francis completely off-guard.   
 

    “W-what?”

  
     “You are supposed to be able to defend Geoffrey, right? Let us see who the better fighter is. Because I am not one peasant for you to toy with – I will take anything you throw at me. So when you insult me, I will not back down from a fight.”

  
     “Why are you English so violent?! No matter, I accept your offer, and I can assure you; I will win.”

  
     Arthur smirked. Finally he had an opportunity to show the snooty Frenchman what he was made of. He had strived hard to be where he was today; his fighting-skills were perfect.

  
     Francis pulled his sword as well and positioned himself so he was facing his opponent. This could be exciting. How good could Arthur be anyway?

  
     Arthur advanced first, sending a blow to Francis’ right side, which Francis blocked. He was surprised of the force behind the sword. It was hard to imagine that the slim man in front of him had delivered that. He did not have the time to ponder more about it, because Arthur had quickly retreated his sword and sent another rapid blow closer to his head this time. He was fighting with both hands on the weapon, slicing it through the air with great finesse. Francis grinned. This could be exciting. He regained his balance and retorted with a few blows himself, which Arthur had no problem blocking. They continued like that for a whole minute, dancing back and forth, blocking and advancing, and swirling around each other.

  
     Arthur however, was just toying with Francis. He let him think he had the upper hand so he would become sloppier and less careful. Then, when he saw an opportunity, he took it. With a flick of his hand, he made Francis sword fly from his hand and onto the grass a couple metres away before he tripped his feet so he hit the ground.

  
     Francis felt the breath being knocked out of him as he hit the solid earth. The impact hurt his shoulder. When he looked up, he saw Arthur towering over him, the sword to his throat. He had lost. Unable to accept defeat however, he used his feet to sweep away Arthur’s footing so he tumbled to the ground as well. Quickly, he was on him and threw his sword away. It became a wrestling match instead. It was clear that Francis had the upper hand. It did not matter how much Arthur struggled, Francis would end up on top. 

     They lay in the grass, panting exhausted. Francis sat on top of Arthur, straddling him and keeping his hands pinned to the ground.

  
     “I said I would win.” Francis breathed.

  
     “You did not win! I won. I could have killed you with my sword, and if it had been a real battle, I would.”

  
     “Ah, but you did not. And that is why I won.” Francis leant down, staring at him through half-lidded eyes. He could feel the tension. Arthur was staring back at him with a weird expression. Was he curious? Freaked out? Eager? Terrified? Should he kiss him? Francis wanted to. There was something about this man that made his stomach do twists when he looked at him and his heart pound faster. The green eyes below the bushy eyebrows and charming, unruly blond hair captured him. They burnt with an intense fire, passion if you would like.

  
     Arthur felt like his heart was going to explode. It was beating so fast at the moment. He could do nothing but stare at Francis, slowly leaning down above him. What was happening? He thought he knew, but did not dare hope. His comebacks were stuck in his throat, which also prevented him from saying anything else. The way Francis looked at him made his stomach do a twist. But then, the magic was broken.

  
     Francis smiled and chuckled before pulling back.

  
     “Hey, let us go see if Antonio has finished with your outfit.” He removed himself from Arthur and stood up, not even looking back at the other, but went to pick up his sword. Arthur growled before he did the same.

  
     No words were spoken while they walked back into town. The tension was overwhelming. However, neither of them wanted to break it. What was there to say?

  
     When they reached Antonio’s the sun hang low up on the sky and had begun to illuminate it in soft orange colours.

  
     The cheery young man opened the door for them with a grin. He asked them to wait there while he went back in to fetch the garment. He had been able to finish it on time, and while Francis paid him, he hoped it fit and asked them good luck the next day. After that, they walked back to the cathedral where their horses awaited them.

  
     On the horseback on their way back to the castle, they did not speak either. Arthur found the whole thing to be very awkward, but did not quite understand why it should be. So he made an attempt to end this.

  
     “So tomorrow is the big day. They will finally marry. Although I do not expect it to last. Matilda will probably leave him within the first week.”

  
     Francis looked surprised at him before he smirked.

  
     “Then I disagree. You should give the woman some credit, Arthur. I believe even she can have self-control. Moreover, considering that her father is the king, I do not think she will try anything.”

  
     “Then let us make a bet. I believe she will not last more than a week. If she is gone within seven days, I win.”

  
     “And if she is still here after a week, I win. The winner gets to decide what the loser has to do.” Francis smirked.

  
     “W-what? But that could be anything!” Arthur spluttered.

  
     “You have a problem with that? Do you maybe think you will lose?”

  
     “Of course not! It is on!”

  
     The rest of the way was filled with small banter and both of them felt relieved that they were back to normal.

***

     The next day everything went by in a hurry. At least it seemed like it. Geoffrey and Francis had already travelled in to town before the bride and Arthur had gotten out of bed. Arthur was a tad irritated by the fact that they had left without telling them. Matilda was less so. She honestly could not care less about the whole affair. Even so, she dressed in her finest dress before leaving her room.

  
     “Arthur, where did you get that tunic? I did not think you owned anything like that.”

  
     “Oh this? Well… err … I bought it yesterday while I was in town, your Majesty.”

     “Really? It suits you.”

     Arthur sighed relieved. He did not know what he was afraid of, but he thought it was best not to say anything about it.

  
     “Thank you, Matilda.”

  
     They did not get a proper explanation as to why the young Count had left earlier, but they was told he had other things to see to in town.

  
     Instead of the groom’s presence, his father’s honoured them instead. As well as servants who were rushing to and from the kitchen all the time. As obnoxious Foulques was, they were both relieved when the guests began to show. At least a few of them had decided to stop by the castle before going to the cathedral. Robert of Gloucester, Matilda’s half-brother was one of them. He greeted both Matilda and Arthur warmly before showing the Count his respect. Arthur quite liked him. He was a pleasant and reasonable man. Robert and Arthur had always liked each other’s company.

  
     After a bit of stalling and final finishes, they left for town. Matilda, Robert and Arthur rode in a carriage while the Count rode on horseback. They also had a party of guards and servants accompanying them.

  
     In town, everyone had gathered out in the streets to get a look at the bride and her men. They all looked so happy. It was not every day they got a new Countess. Moreover, when Matilda was the heir to the English throne, it was even more exciting.

  
     A crowd had gathered in front of the cathedral, awaiting them. Foulques demounted the horse while the others stepped out of the carriage. Then they entered the building.

  
     The whole ceremony was long. The two soon to be wed stood on the altar in front of the priest while he talked on about the holy marriage. Even though it had only been a few years since the pope had declared that a wedding was something only the church could do.

  
     The guests and attendants stood down in the central vessel. Arthur tried to scan the crowd for Francis. He had not seen him since the night before. When he found him, his breath hitched. He was looking right back at him. Then he quickly shifted his gaze to the couple up front. Arthur took the opportunity to study him. He had tied his hair back in a purple ribbon. Only a few locks hung down the sides of his face. He was wearing a long, deep blue tunic with flower patterns and golden borders and decoration. It suited him perfectly.

  
     During the wedding Arthur found himself looking at Francis more than the couple up on the altar. Finally, it all came to an end.

  
     “I Matilda take thee Geoffrey to my wedded husband, till death us depart, and thereto I plight thee my troth”.

  
     Geoffrey repeated the same words and then the priest asked them to kiss. Arthur almost laughed aloud when he saw the look on Matilda’s face, and he exchanged looks with Robert, who stood beside him. Even so, the Empress leant down to kiss her groom and everyone cheered for them. Then Foulques declared that they should all go back to the castle for the festivities.

  
     Arthur did not get a chance to talk to Francis during the exit either. There was people everywhere and he could hardly spot him in the crowd. Soon he found himself in the same carriage with Robert and Matilda. He was a bit surprised by the latter’s presence but decided not to comment about why she was not with her husband. Although Robert and Arthur engaged in small talk during the trip back, Matilda did not speak, but stared out the window with a look that could murder at anything that moved.

  
     Back at the castle, everyone, except the married couple, was in good mood and some had even begun drinking wine. Laughter sounded throughout the building and the noble people talked loudly with each other. Slowly, they all pulled into the main room to where the dining table was. Arthur was quite delighted that he would not have to join them for dinner; the noise and all the people was more than enough for him. Besides; most of them were ingratiating assholes. So when it was announced that the food was coming and everyone took their place at the table, Arthur excused himself.

  
     Arthur walked over to the kitchen in hopes of getting some food, and maybe encountering a certain Frenchman. The kitchen however, was full of servants rushing back and forth with ingredients for the meals. So Arthur remained in the doorway, leaning relaxed against the frame and observing the ruckus. In the middle of it all, was Francis. He looked like he was the boss there. Ordering people around while working on his own piece.

  
     “Hey! You two! Go serve the wine and keep it coming; people want to get drunk tonight. And you; give me the onions. You have to stir them like this, try to pay attention!”

  
     Arthur could not help but smile. He certainly knew what he was doing. It did not take long before the food was ready to be carried out to the guests, and the last of the servants disappeared out the door, past Arthur. Francis sighed as the last plate left the room and leant against the table in the middle of the room before he looked up and spotted Arthur in the doorway. Arthur saw surprise in his eyes as they locked right before Francis lost his hold on the table and he fell to the floor.

  
     Francis felt his entire face go red as he fell, but he willed it away as soon as he heard Arthur come over. Before he had reached him, Francis quickly got up and turned to him with a smile.

  
     “Arthur! What are you doing here?”

     “Are you alright? I came because you said we should eat here, should we not?”

  
     As they talked, the servants began streaming in through the door.

  
     “Ah, yes. Of course. Please, take a seat.” Then he turned to the others. “If you would sit down, we can all have dinner too. You two, bring forth the food.” Francis sat down at the end of the table with Arthur to his left. His new clothes really fit him. Not only that, he was beautiful. Forest-green and silver were adorned in elegant patterns covering him, and made his eyes stand out even more. Francis wanted to kiss him silly.

  
     He was interrupted in his train of thought when the dinner was placed in front of him. It smelled delicious. And why would it not? He was the one who had made it after all. He stole a glance over at Arthur who had just taken a piece of food in his mouth. It was clearly visible on his face what he thought of it. Francis smiled to himself.

  
     “Did you make this food?”

  
     “Yes I did. What do you think of it? Was everything satisfactorily enough for you?” He smirked.

  
     “I-it was alright. For a French at least.”

  
     “Oh please, French cuisine is much better than English. Besides; I know you enjoyed it.” Francis winked at a blushing Arthur. They ate the meal during pleasant chatting with the servants under the loud noises from the room next door. Eventually, the servants went to tend to different chores other places, and some kept serving wine to the party. That left the two advisors alone by the table. They had claimed two bottles of wine for themselves, and were already halfway through the first. Both sat contently leant back in their seats and sipped wine.

  
     “So Arthur. How did you happen to get the great honour of serving by her Imperial Majesty’s side if I may ask?”

  
     Arthur tensed up, but then he sunk back against the chair again before he answered.

  
     “I am just that good.”

  
     Francis chuckled.

  
     “I am serious, Arthur.”

  
     “I do not want to.”

  
     “Please, _cher_. Come on, I will tell you about myself after you are done.” He winked at the Englishman, who snorted.

  
     “Like I would want to know anything about you.” However, he continued after a few seconds pause. “My father was a knight under King Henry and died in his service when I was just a boy. Soon after my mother and my brothers fell victims to one of the French King Louis’ raids along the border of Normandy where we just had happened to settle down after my father died. King Henry had known my father, and took pity on me and made me a servant at his castle. However, I often sneaked out to train with the soldiers. And I learnt to read, write and so I proved my value as an advisor and guard to the King. Matilda was married to the Holy Roman Emperor at the time so we never really met before the King sent me to accompany her here.” Arthur looked up for the first time while talking and stared intently at Francis. “There. Happy now?”

  
     Francis just stared back at him, at loss of what to say. Arthur looked away at his cup of wine and took another sip.

  
     “I-I am sorry. I did not-”

  
     “Forget it. I have had enough pity throughout my life; I do not need that from you as well. Besides, it all happened long ago. I am fine with it. Nothing to do about it now anyway.”

  
     Francis almost got tears in his eyes thinking about how tragic that childhood must have been. But he knew Arthur would get angry if he suddenly began crying. It was not his place.

  
     “Well, my life certainly has not been as eventful as yours, _that_ is safe to say.” He gave Arthur a sad smile. Arthur simply huffed and looked away. “My family is one of the nobles around here. As the oldest son I was sent away to serve under Count Foulques in hopes of securing and improving our position. I have a younger sister who lives with my parents at our home. It is a lot of responsibility, and I think my parents had hoped that I would marry one of Geoffrey’s older sisters, preferably Matilda who was married to your Matilda’s now dead older brother. But earlier this year she returned from England and became a nun. Maybe you know her? I heard she had been in King Henry’s court the last years. Yes? But of course, now that both of Geoffrey’s sisters are out of the question, that leaves me free to do as I please. My life is not that exciting, but I have the feeling that the best part is yet to come.” Francis smirked at his companion.

  
     Arthur was busy downing his wine when Francis finished. He sat the cup down on the table and poured himself some more.

  
     “Like your life would ever be exciting. But I guess our lives now depend deeply on the fate of the two married royals in the other room, so who am I to say.”

  
     “ _Oui_. If you win our little bet, Matilda will soon be gone and we only have a few days left together.” Francis looked up to meet Arthur’s eyes as he realized what he had just said. “Ah, not that I like spending time with you or anything!”

  
     At that very moment, the door flung open and Francis had never been more grateful for an interruption. They both turned their heads to look at the intruder.

  
     “Geoffrey?” Francis rose from his seat. “Is everything alright? You look a bit shaken.”

  
     Geoffrey was obviously intoxicated, but once he saw Francis he stumbled over to the table and steadied himself there. Then he looked Francis straight in the eyes with a scared expression on his face.

  
     “Francis! You have to help me. It is _very_ important.”

  
     “Yes? What is it?”

  
     “Francis, I said I was going to out to take a piss, but that is _not_ why I am here. Or, I need to take a piss, but not now! Not now. Francis. They want me to do it now. I don’t want to do it.”

  
     “What? Do what Geoffrey?” Francis exchanged a look with Arthur. He did not seem to understand what the child was talking about either.

  
     “They want me to have sex with her. They want us to go to bed _now_. And I don’t want that. Francis, she is so old. I don’t know how. What do I do? Help me, please.”

  
     There was a small pause where both the advisors stared blankly at Geoffrey. Then they both burst out into laughter. Francis hunched over so badly he had to sit down not to fall over on the floor. They could not stop laughing. Geoffrey could not understand what was so funny so he just stared confused at them.

  
     “Francis! This is an emergency!” He slammed one of his hands on the table, but quickly had to steady himself again to not tip over. Francis tried to stop his laughter and took deep breaths to do so. When he finally was calm again, he faced Geoffrey.

  
     “ _Oui_ , Geoffrey you are right, this is an emergency. You do not know how to make love to a woman. This is all my fault, I see that now. Well, there is none better than I to teach you how to love a woman. I have plenty of experience, and will be _honoured_ to teach you. Now, it is important to make her feel loved. For that-”

  
     “No, Francis, I don’t want to _love_ her. I only need to have sex with her.”

  
     Arthur huffed at the response and grinned at Francis’ defeated expression.

  
     “Then you should ask someone else. I deal with love, not affectionless fucking. Just make sure she is enjoying it as well, or I am sure she will kill you. Go ask your father instead.” Francis crossed him arms in defiance and put his nose up in the air. Geoffrey mumbled something incomprehensible but turned around and walked out into the main room, from which he had come.

  
     “So… you have a lot of… experience?” Arthur looked questioning at Francis.

  
     “Huh? Ah, but _oui_ , of course. Look at me, who could resist this? I have had many women, and men.” Francis winked at Arthur who blushed deeply. He grabbed the second wine bottle and filled both their cups. They both drank a bit before suddenly a different sort of sounds came in through the door than before. Francis put down his drink and stood up quickly.

  
     “Listen! That is the musicians I told you about, are they not wonderful?” He turned to Arthur with a big smile on his face.

  
     “I guess so?” Arthur could not help but smile back.

  
     “Here, come dance with me.” Francis held his hand out for Arthur to take.

  
     “W-what?”

  
     When Arthur did not take it, Francis grabbed him instead and pulled him up from the chair. He proceeded to swirl him around and then set his hand firmly at his waist.

  
     “Hey! What are you doing?” Arthur was tense but did not move to free himself.

  
     “I am dancing, _cheri_.” Francis moved them around the kitchen in soft circles.

  
     “No shit.” Arthur glared at him. “Why are you dancing?”

  
     “Because I want to and I enjoy it.” He smiled.

  
     “But-”

  
     “Arthur. Just… shut up.” Francis sighed with a small smile adorning his face.

  
     Arthur ended up closing his mouth, but growled to show his displeasure with it. Although, secretly his heart was beating excessively fast. He could only hope Francis did not hear it. At first, he looked Francis in his eyes, but when he kept staring he felt a blush coming up and he had to look away. Due to the alcohol consumption and the slow rhythm of the music, he felt his eyelids grow heavy and he struggled to keep them open. He found himself leaning more and more against Francis and soon his head rested on his shoulder. The strange comfort he git from Francis lulled him to sleep and the last thing he remembered before it all faded was the wonderful smell of Francis.

***

     Francis woke up by the sound of something soft and heavy hitting the floor. He groaned and lifted his head from the pillow before looking around to see what had happened. Sprawled out on the floor to his right, lay Arthur with a bewildered look on his face. Francis sighed.

  
     “Arthur… what are you doing?”

  
     “Where are we? Why am I here with you? What-”

  
     “Arrrthur… shush. This is my room. I brought you here when you fell asleep last night. I did not take the risk of bringing you to you old room because I did not know where Geoffrey and Matilda ended up. Now stop making noise, it is early and I want to sleep.”

  
     “Then why am I naked?!”

  
     Francis lifted an eyelid to look at him.

  
     “You. Are. Not. Naked.”

  
     “Where is my tunic?”

  
     “I took it off. It is on the chair behind you. Do you really think I would let you sleep in that expensive outfit? You would get wrinkles on it.” Francis stretched like a cat beneath the covers. “Now either get back in bed or be quiet.”

  
     Arthur sat conflicted by the bed. It looked very warm and cosy, and Francis was there. On the other hand, if he went back to bed, what kind of signal would that send to him? However, he was still sleepy. He felt a headache coming and groaned loudly. What time of the day was it anyway? He did not think even the sun had come up yet. So, with that he arose from the floor and lifted the covers for him to crawl under again. He settled in and shut his eyes. Then he felt Francis stir by his side. He opened his eyes. Francis was looking straight at him, sapphire blue glinting in the dark. Arthur growled.

  
     “What?”

  
     “Why?”

  
     “It is dark, cold, I am tired and my head hurts.”

  
     Francis smiled. Arthur was adorable. He closed his eyes to go back to sleep and inched a bit closer to the man beside him.

***

     The next time they woke up was with a knocking on the door before a voice called out.

  
     “Francis? Are you there? The Count wants to see you.”

  
     “Mm mm, I will be right there!” Francis hugged the person in his arms closer. Then he opened his eyes and looked down at Arthur. His heartbeats sped up and Francis quickly removed himself from the other before Arthur had the chance to wake up. Instead, he carefully shook him awake.

  
     “Arthur. _Cher_ , you have to wake up, we are wanted.”

  
     Arthur groaned lightly before he rubbed his eyes. Then suddenly, he sat up.

  
     “Wait, did someone come in? Did they see me?”

  
     “No, no one saw you, _cher_.”

  
     “Thank God.” Arthur let out a relieved sigh and fell back onto the pillow. “Imagine if they had. Everyone would have talked and come up with assumptions. Oh God, what would Matilda have said? I would never have convinced her that nothing happened.”

  
     “ _What_ could have happened do you say?” Francis smirked.

  
     “A-absolutely nothing! Now get dressed, you git!”

  
     Francis hummed and did as he was told. Arthur grabbed his tunic from the chair and dressed as well. 

  
     “Hey wait! You are not wearing you clothes from yesterday, but I am wearing mine.”

  
     “ _Very_ good observation, Arthur. Now get moving.”

  
     “But-”

  
     “ _Non_! Nobody will notice, now go!” Francis ushered him out the door and they walked side by side down to the main room.

  
     When they entered, several heads turned to them. Many of yesterday’s attendants were still there – they had occupied other guest rooms in the castle and some had even slept by the table. It was now being served breakfast and they chatted quietly while eating. At the head of the table, Matilda, Foulques and Robert sat. Arthur and Francis claimed the chairs beside them. 

  
     “Your Highness, was there anything you wanted?” Francis addressed the Count.

  
     “Yes Francis, I have decided to depart for Jerusalem today. That means I will give my title as Count of Anjou to Geoffrey. He will need some help to secure the authority in the area. There will possibly be some revolts, and I trust you to take care of him and guide him.”

  
     “Of course, your Highness.” Francis smiled and gave a slight nod to his superior. “Speaking of the boy, where is he?” He looked over at Matilda.

  
     “Asleep.” She answered without even looking up from her food.

  
     Foulques told them he would leave shortly after breakfast and bring only a handful of men with him. Matilda did not speak during the meal and Arthur did not risk engage in conversation with her, so he talked to her brother instead. This did not go unnoticed by Francis. Later on Geoffrey came to join them. Everyone saw he sat down as far away from Matilda as possible and neither of them offered the other as much as a glance. The awkward tension was only growing so when Foulques decided to make his leave, everyone was relieved.

  
     They all gathered in the yard to see him off. While the Count gave his son a big hug and exchanged a few words with him and Francis in private, Arthur seized the opportunity to talk to Matilda.

  
     “How did it go last night?” He hoped to tread carefully so he would not receive her wrath the rest of the day. Robert had positioned himself beside them as well, clearly listening in.

  
     “Disappointing.”

  
     “Really? How so?” Arthur could barely contain his laughter. He could only imagine by the conversation between Geoffrey and Francis the night before.

  
     “He fell asleep on the floor as soon he had vomited all over my dress.”

  
     That did it. Both Arthur and Robert had to support themselves on each other to remain standing. It attracted the attention to several of the surrounding people. Arthur managed to squeeze out a few encouraging words however.

  
     “I… am… sure he will do better tonight, your Majesty.” 

  
     “Tsk, I can only hope.”

  
     They quickly seized their conversation when Geoffrey and Francis joined them. Francis looked questioning at Arthur but he ignored it. They all waved goodbye when the Count and his party rode out through the castle gates. When they turned to go back in again, Francis walked up by Arthur and asked about what they had laughed at. Arthur told him, snickering quietly. However, Francis just shook his head.

  
     “I feel strangely humiliated and ashamed.”

  
     The rest of the day went by seemingly unproductive. Matilda and Geoffrey barely talked to each other and Francis kept pondering about the relationship between Arthur and Robert. They all discussed certain politically stands and minor topics about now managing the principality.

  
     However, as every day, the sun set and they all made ready to bed. Arthur and Francis had been out in the yard for a stroll and were on their way inside. Francis hoped he could get Arthur to sleep in his bed tonight as well. Maybe he would dare to kiss him this time.

  
     “So where are you sleeping tonight? Your and Matilda’s old room?”

  
     “No I think I will sleep with Robert.”

  
     “What?!”

  
     “Yes, he have an extra bed in his room. Why?”

  
     “Oh, all right, in that case. But if you should change your mind, my bed has always room for one more you know.” Francis winked.

  
     Arthur blushed slightly.

  
     “I think I will pass.”

  
     “Your loss. But have a good night anyway, _cher_.”

  
     “Good night, Francis.”

  
     They smiled at each other before they went their separate ways. Arthur joined Robert who waited for him inside while Francis walked in the opposite direction, to his own bedroom.

***

     The next day Francis, Arthur, and Robert ate breakfast while chatting when the doors slammed open with a pang. Their heads snapped up to stare at Matilda standing in the doorway. She looked furious.

  
     “I quit! I have had enough of this bullshit! Robert! Arthur! Pack your things, we are leaving!” When they did nothing but sit petrified and look at her, she shouted at them. “NOW!”

  
     Both of the addressed men hastily arose, abandoning their meal. Francis quickly grabbed Arthur’s wrist before he had the chance to leave. Then he turned to Matilda.

  
     “Y-your Majesty, is there something wrong? If there is a problem, I can help. You do not have to leave so soon, we could-”

  
     “Shut the hell up Francis! The problem here is Geoffrey! I cannot stand to be married to this _child_ any longer. When he passed out, I could handle it. But when he cannot even get it up… no, I refuse to stay here any longer! We are leaving and that is final!”

  
     Francis grip on Arthur loosened and soon Arthur had disappeared. He sat down in his chair again as Matilda slammed the door shut. What the hell had just happened? The only thing clear in his mind was that Arthur was leaving. He was leaving. No, he had to do something. Surely, Arthur could stay behind. Francis stood up. He had no time to lose. He sprinted down the hallway and opened the castle doors. Out in the yard, Arthur and Robert were busy lifting the baggage onto the carriage while Matilda stepped into it.

  
     “Arthur!”

  
     Arthur lifted his head to see who had called him. It was Francis. He came running down the stairs and across the yard. Arthur really did not want to leave him. Francis made him feel fantastic and despite their bickering, Arthur had enjoyed these last day in his company. And maybe there was something more there which he did not dare think about. He paused in his work, standing to meet Francis.

  
     “Yes? What is it?”

  
     “Don’t leave!”

  
     That took Arthur completely off guard. He could feel his heart flutter. What was this strange sensation?

  
     “W-what?”

  
     “Stay here with me!” Francis grabbed his hand. “O-or I mean, w-with us. Here, in the castle. You won the bet, you still have things to do here.”

  
     Arthur did not know how to react, so he spluttered.

  
     “I-I am sorry, Francis. I can’t. I have to go now.” He nodded towards the carriage from where Matilda called his name. Not wanting to leave Francis like that, he shifted their hands so that he held Francis’, and brought it up to his lips where he pressed a soft kiss to it. Then he turned around and joined the two in the carriage. Before he even knew it, they were out of the castle and on their way through the French landscape.  

  
     Francis stood all alone in the yard, looking breathless at the disappearing carriage. Then he turned on his heel and marched into the castle again. He had to find Geoffrey.   
     Francis found him still in bed in what _had_ been his and Matilda’s room. He gripped his shoulders and shook him awake.

  
     “Geoffrey! Wake up!”

  
     “Hm? Francis? What’s going on?”

  
     “Your wife just left the country, you _imbécile_!”

***

     “This is all the fault of that boy. I knew the son of Foulques would be no good.” King Henry growled. His daughter had just returned from Anjou to Normandy and was standing in front of him. “We need to solve this problem. Matilda, I want you to come with me to London.”

  
     “As you wish, father.” Matilda made a curtsy and then excused herself. Arthur joined her as escort to her chambers. When they were out of hearing-range Matilda turned to Arthur.

  
     “Is there something wrong, Arthur? You have been extremely quiet since we left Anjou. Is it because of that man?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

  
     “What? Of course not! I am just tired is all.”

  
     “I am not blind, Arthur. I saw the way you two looked at each other.”

  
     “He did? I mean; I do _not_ look at him… like that.”

  
     “Good then. Because I do not intend to take any consideration for your private matters concerning my own business. Good night, Arthur.”

  
     “Good night, your Majesty.” Arthur bowed his head and continued down the hall after Matilda had entered her room. He sighed.

***

     There had been a revolt just in the outskirts of the principality so Geoffrey had taken Francis and a handful of knights to accompany him there. They had to strike it down before it could spread if Geoffrey wanted to keep the power over the land. They had had their hands full in the last couple of months. Apparently, quite a few had seized the opportunity to criticise the young Count and make advances towards him. It had been a tough job to keep the power.

***

     In London a year later, Matilda sat with the King’s great council. They had talked for hours about whenever Matilda should return to Geoffrey in Anjou. At the end of it, they decided that she should. However, they also officially proclaimed her the heir of Henry and so she would inherit all his land when he died. Needless to say Matilda was quite pleased with that agreement, so she would return to Geoffrey without any more commotion.

  
     Arthur felt a as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

***

     Francis ran into the Count’s chambers without bothering to knock. He was overjoyed.

  
     “Geoffrey! There is a letter here from the King’s great council!”

  
     “What?”

  
     “Listen! It says that Matilda will return to you within a few months and she is now officially also _the heir_ to the throne of England and Normandy!”

  
     “Can they do that? She _is_ a woman.”

  
     “It has to be the first time in history, I have never heard of something like this before. But Geoffrey, do you realize what that means to you?”

  
     “I will have to endure my dreadful wife once more, possibly until I die this time?”

  
     “No, you will be King of England and Normandy when Henry dies!”

  
     “Oh.” Geoffrey sat speechless. Francis was grinning from ear to ear. This meant Arthur would probably come back as well.

***

     Francis could not stand still. Arthur was supposed to arrive here today. They had received a letter from him the day before, sent from a neighbouring village. Francis had been ushering back and forth servants the whole day to make sure everything was ready for the Empress. He had dressed in his best clothes and pestered Geoffrey to do the same. He was much more cooperative when he realized the fact that he would someday be a King.

  
     The sound of horses in the yard captured his attentions and he stormed out the doors to welcome the party. The door to the carriage opened and Matilda stepped out. Francis made a deep bow.

  
     “Your Majesty. A pleasure as always.”

  
     “Hello Francis. Arthur will be here shortly.”

  
     Francis blushed slightly, but decided to ignore it and the fact that Matilda knew who he was waiting for.

  
     “He is not with you?”

  
     “No, he got side-tracked over in the last town so I went ahead. He will not be too long though. Is my husband here?”

  
     “Ah, yes. He is waiting for you inside.”

  
     Francis escorted Matilda inside while wondering how Arthur had been. It had already been three years since the marriage after all. Was he still the same? Later that evening the sky clouded up and soon the rain fell heavy. Francis became more and more worried for Arthur. What if he got lost? Attacked by bandits? He sat quiet during the dinner, and he thought both Matilda and Geoffrey had noticed his vacant expression.

  
     Right before they prepared for bed at night, someone knocked on the door. A servant rushed to it and opened up for the stranger. A cloaked figure hurried inside while he cursed.

  
     “Fucking horrible weather. Just _had_ to rain, didn’t it?” He removed his hood and looked up at the people present, who were all staring at him. “What?”

  
     “About time, Arthur. What were doing you doing for it to take so long?” Matilda addressed him.

  
     “Have you _seen_ the weather? The river just north of here flooded the bridge and it took forever to find somewhere to cross. I am just glad I am here alive.”

  
     “Of course. Well, it looks like you could need a bath. Francis, would you please help him?” Matilda ignored the questioning look she got from Geoffrey as Francis, maybe a tad too eager, answered.

  
     “Of course!” He rose from his chair and told the servant to boil some water while he grabbed Arthur to lead him down a hallway. At the end of it, he pushed him into a room, which seemed to be a bathroom. Then he removed Arthur’s drenched cloak and dropped it to the floor. For a few second they stood still, looking at each other.

  
     “You still cannot grow a proper beard?” Arthur smirked.

  
     “And you still have your horrendous eyebrows I see. And my beard is supposed to look like this!” Francis tried to look angry, but he could not help the smile on his face.

  
     “Bloody Frenchman.”

  
     “Stupid _Anglais_.”

  
     Francis reached his hand up to cup Arthur’s face. Then he slowly leant in, so that he still had the time to pull away, and pressed a kiss to his lips. His heart made a jump when he felt Arthur kiss back and hug him tighter. The kiss was wet and soft. It left both of them with a pleasant feeling in their guts and they continued to hug each other and kiss even more passionately. They were interrupted by a small shriek from the doorway.

  
     “F-Francis, here is your water.” The servant from before was standing tensely there, staring at them. Francis quickly let go of Arthur.

  
     “Ah, _merci_. Come in, I will take it.” The servant hurried to deliver the kettle and then disappeared out the door again. Francis turned to pour the water into the tub in the middle of the room before he turned to Arthur.

  
     “Let’s get you out of those clothes _ami_.” They both tried not to look each other in the eyes as Francis carefully stripped Arthur. Both a bit flushed. Francis left Arthur to undress the last bit himself as he supplied the boiling water with some cold from a barrel left in one corner.

  
     Arthur stepped into the tub and sat down, letting the water cover him. A sigh escaped him. It had been a while since his last bath. Then he felt strong arms hugging him from the back, a heavy weight leaning against him. They just sat like that for a while before Francis picked up a cloth and soap and began cleaning him. Arthur felt the whole thing was very embarrassing, but he tried not to think too much about it and just enjoy it for the time being. He think he fell asleep at some point because the next thing he could remember was Francis gently nudging him.

  
     “Arthur, you have to get out the water now.”

  
     He just hummed in response, but stood up and got a towel wrapped around his body. He dried himself as Francis slipped out the door. When he was done, he spotted a fresh piece of clothing laid out on the floor for him. He dressed and then proceeded to exit the room into the hallway and make his way down to the main room. He discovered it was quite late. There was no one else to see anywhere, and a peaceful atmosphere hang over the castle. Through the castle windows, he could see that it was still pouring down. When he came down to the dining area was Francis already there with a plate of warm food ready on the table. He sat down beside him and hesitantly began eating. It was delicious. However also very awkward, because Francis kept looking at him. He glared at him.

  
     “Francis. Stop staring at me.”

  
     “What, can you really blame me? I have not seen you in three years, I think I have the right to look at you.”

  
     “Not while I’m eating!”

  
     “Well, if you are so against it, I guess I could wait until you are sleeping.” He smirked.

  
     “As you would ever have the chance to do that.”

  
     “Oh, so you have other plans to keep me busy at night, _cheri_?” Francis lifted an eyebrow.

  
     “Bollocks! No! That was _not_ what I meant and you know it, you pervert! Shut up!”

  
     Francis chuckled as Arthur blushed a deep red.

  
     “I am glad you are back, Arthur.” He smiled warmly at the other.

  
     “… me too. I am glad to finally be here.”

  
     “It has been so boring here without you. Except maybe the revolt, I would not exactly call that boring.”

  
     “Yes I heard about that. I heard you managed to control it.”

  
     “Yes, Geoffrey was quite astonishing. He has changed a lot over these last years. He is much more mature now that’s for sure. And I now for a fact that he knows how to make love by now, so Matilda will not have any troubles regarding that.” He let out a chuckle. In addition, Arthur seemed intrigued by that statement.

  
     “Oh? How so?”

  
     “Well, shortly after you and Matilda left three years ago, I heard some servants talking about Geoffrey and how he had made a girl in town pregnant. This was only gossip of course, but I decided to check it out for myself. Several sources later I was no longer in doubt. The boy’s name is Hamelin and by now he is two years old.”

  
     “Really? Who would have thought that? I cannot imagine Geoffrey as a father. If this is true, I might just believe in the boy yet. The important thing now for Matilda and Geoffrey now is to conceive a child, an heir to the throne. That would strengthen Matilda’s claim, because I do not imagine everyone will let a woman reign over the land.”

  
     “That is true. At least there is now proof that Geoffrey _do_ know how to produce a child, so that should be one thing less to worry about. But I think that is enough politics for today. You must be exhausted. Finish your food and we can go to bed.”

  
     Arthur resumed his eating and when he was done, Francis carried it out into the kitchen before he came back. He stood there biting his lip, but switching to a grin before he spoke.

  
     “So there is a guest room ready for you if you would like. However, I can assure you _my_ bed is of much better comfort and will suit _you_ a lot better.”

  
     Arthur spluttered.

  
     “Francis!”

  
     “Relax, _cher_. I would not dare. But the offer still stands. Come.” There was no way Arthur was not sleeping with him tonight. He knew Arthur wanted to as well, but chances were he would never admit it, so Francis had to take the initiative. He gently took Arthur’s hand and led him up to his own room. He tried to protest but his body made no move to get away. In Francis’ room, they undressed and got under the warm covers. While they did nothing more than sleep that night, they still woke up in each other’s arms the next morning.

***

     Two years later Matilda gave birth to a son. Blessed with an heir, needless to say, everyone was overjoyed. King Henry even came for a visit and the little boy was named after his grandfather.

***

     A year later Matilda lay in labour for the second time. This time however, it did not go as smoothly. She lay on her bed in her and Geoffrey’s shared bedroom, screaming so it echoed throughout the whole castle. It had been going on for hours and she was exhausted. Her father and Geoffrey sat by her side while Francis and Arthur waited outside the door. It was truly a horrifying experience. They witnessed servants running out from the room with bloodied sheets and blankets. Arthur was especially anxious. He could not sit still, but walked back and forth in the hallway. When the next servant came out the door, he grabbed her before she could run off.

  
     “How is she? Will she survive? The child?”

  
     “W-we do not know, Sire. But her chanced of survival are low at the moment… and they will probably not be better. Sire, I need to go.”

  
     Arthur released the poor girl and sat down on the wooden floor, burying his head in his hands. Francis, who had been watching him up until now, sat down beside him and placed an arm around his back.

  
     “Arthur, there is nothing you can do. We will just have to wait and see what happens.”

  
     Arthur just mumbled something incomprehensible into his hands. Then the servant came back and disappeared inside again. Soon after, she stuck her head out.

  
     “It is a boy. However… I do not think her Majesty will survive the night. I am sorry.” Before she closed the door, they could hear Matilda argue with her father about where she should be buried when she died. Even on her deathbed, she was unwavering.

  
     Francis tightened his hold on Arthur and stroked his back. He murmured softly as not to startle him.

  
     “Arthur, we should go to bed. It is late and there is nothing we can do anymore. Please.” Francis coaxed Arthur to his feet and the two of them went to bed.

  
     The next morning they awoke to the good news that Matilda would live and the boy was to be named Geoffrey. If either of them shed a few tears, neither would tell.

***

     One day the following year, 1135, Matilda and Geoffrey awaked abruptly when both their advisors storm their bedroom early in the morning.

  
     “Matilda! The letter! It arrived this morning! King Henry is dead!”

  
     Apparently, the old king had eaten too much lampreys and died due to that. The rest of the day, letters arrived from everywhere. Some told that the king had stated he still wanted Matilda to succeed to the throne after he died despite their disagreements the last year. Others were less favourable to Matilda and said Henry had refused her claim. Easy put it was a mess. And on top of it all, Matilda’s cousin, Stephen of Blois, had declared himself the rightful heir. After a few weeks, it was clear that there had broken out a civil war in England. King Henry had had a disagreement with Matilda prior to his death. He had refused to give her and Geoffrey the castles in Normandy he had promised her because he was afraid of Geoffrey’s want for the control of Normandy. Those castles would have strengthen Matilda’s position but now; they were not even hers anymore. That was why the couple decided on marching north to seize the castles in Normandy. While there, they received the news that Stephen had departed France and disembarked in England. Robert had tried to stop him, but he successfully reached London and a few weeks later was proclaimed the new monarch.

  
     During the next three years, Matilda gave birth to a third son and used her time to secure the area they had concurred. Arthur chose to stay with her while Francis joined Geoffrey in invading Normandy. Stephen did however, have many troubles in England as well. Matilda’s uncle, David of Scotland, attacked England from the north while there were rebellions in the south. Robert was a firepower behind the revolts in England as one of the most powerful men in the country. He came to join Matilda south of Normandy and declared war on her behalf against Stephen. But time was of the essence. While Robert tried to persuade Matilda to invade England, more and more of his supporters lost to Stephen in England. In 1139, Robert and Matilda had gathered forces in France and made their way across the sea to England. Arthur joined them.

***

      Francis had a bad feeling about this. Arthur was going to England to fight while he had to stay there in Normandy. At least here, the resistance was minimal and they had been lucky Stephen did not care so much for Normandy as England. Here he was by Geoffrey’s side while his lover fought in England. He knew Arthur was an excellent fighter, but he could still not get rid of that horrible feeling in his gut.

***

     Matilda’s invasion of England went relatively successful at the beginning. Because Stephen undermined her for being a woman, she was able to get out of trouble and join up with Robert several times after the fights. It was clear that Stephen looked at Robert as his main opponent.

  
     After two years of fighting, Matilda’s and Robert’s forces were able to capture Stephen in the battle of Lincoln. This resulted in that Matilda could finally reclaim the throne as _Lady of England and Normandy_. The joy however, was short-lived. Before she could take the seat in London, they were forced to flee because the Londoners felt entitled to Stephen. Later on, they were attacked by Stephen’s wife, the Queen. She managed to capture Robert during the retreat of their army. Matilda and Arthur escaped, and this led to negotiations between her and the Queen. Unable to agree on each other’s terms, they simply traded prisoners. Robert returned to Normandy to help Geoffrey against the last of Stephen’s supporters there.

  
     In England, Matilda’s forces were surrounded by Stephen in Oxford Castle, where they had sought refuge. He commanded a siege of the castle and placed his army around it so that she could not escape.

  
     Inside the castle, Arthur grew restless. They had been stuck there for far too long and they would not last much longer. They had discovered a secret passage hidden in one of the rooms they could use for the escape, but the castle was surrounded, so it would be useless if they could not avoid the royal army. But they were eyeing a solution. As the Christmas grew closer, the weather grew colder and soon the river behind the fortress was frozen solid. Then they could walk over it. The whole thing was carefully planned and they had decided to carry it out that night.

  
     As soon as it grew dark, Matilda, Arthur, and a few of their most trusted men made ready to exit the castle. They sneaked out and made their way through the snow, down to the ice. So far, no one had noticed them. They knew Stephen had patrols up the river, so they had to hurry. As they stepped out on the ice, they could hear it cracking below their feet. With care, they walked hunched across the river. However, things did not go their way that night. Well on the other side, as they thought they had made it, they were spotted. A patrol saw them climb the hill up from the water and shouted at them before they began to peruse. It soon became clear that they could not escape. Neither could they risk stopping to face them head on. The rest of Stephen’s forces could hear them and then they would never get away.

  
     Arthur saw only one possible way out of this. He stopped up in his course and pulled his sword.

  
     “Matilda, keep running! I will hold them off.” He paused.

  
     “Arthur, get back here!”

  
     He held his stand.

  
     “Tell Francis that I love him and that… I am sorry!”

  
     With that, he turned to face his opponents. There were three of them and he had no chance. But he managed to keep them busy enough for his Queen to flee, and then his goal was reached. During the fight he was knocked unconscious, and he should later realize that fate would have been kind to him if had let him die right there and then.

***

     Francis had received a letter from Matilda saying she was still alive. That made him relieved, but it did make him uneasy that Arthur had not written this letter. He knew Arthur’s handwriting by now and he was usually the one to write Matilda’s letters. Fearing something was wrong, he asked Geoffrey if he could deliver the next letter himself. Understanding, Geoffrey granted him his wish and soon Francis was on his way to England.

     “Matilda! It is so good to see you. How are you, _cheri_?” Francis strode into the room.

  
     “Francis! What are you doing here?” Matilda looked up from her writing desk.

  
     “Just delivering a letter and visiting an old friend.” He winked at her, and then he became serious. “Now, where is Arthur? I noticed he did not write this last letter, so I figured something had to be wrong. Was he injured? Is he…”

  
      Matilda sighed.

  
     “Francis…”

  
     “What? Where is he? What happened?!” Francis understood something had gone horribly wrong and began to panic.

  
     “Captured. He was captured while ensuring mine among other’s escape from Oxford.”

  
     “Then what are you waiting for? Rescue him!”

  
     “I cannot. He is one person, Francis. I cannot risk our goal on him.”

  
     “Fine! Then I will!”

  
     They stared intently at each other before Matilda sighed. She bent down over the table and scribbled something on a piece of paper which she then reached out to Francis.

  
     “Alright, the only thing I can do is give you the location I last heard he was held at, but I cannot promise he will be there.”

  
     “I will find him.” He turned around to walk out.

  
     “Francis… one more thing. He said he was sorry. And that he lov-”

  
     “Stop. He can tell me that himself. Goodbye, your Majesty.”

    Arthur had lost track of what was day and night. The only thing he knew was pain. Pain everywhere. Everything hurt. They had beat him, kicked, and worse. They wanted to know secrets Matilda may have, weak points, ways they could beat her. They had pulled his fingers out of joint one by one. They had whipped him until his back was just torn skin and cakes of blood. He thought they had pulled out some nails too, but at this point, he was too far gone to even register the things they did to him. Then they had stopped. Let him be for a few days. That was almost worse than being in the middle of it. He never felt safe and now he could feel everything so much better. The feeling there and then was nothing compared to what it felt like afterwards. So when the cell door flung open, he could do nothing but curl up into a little ball while a few sobs escaped him. He did not want to go back. He just wanted to die. And maybe see Francis one last time before that.

  
     The person that had opened the door did nothing. They just stood in the opening, watching. Arthur could tell. He could feel the eyes on him. He waited in anticipation. The voice that met him came as a shock.

  
     “Arthur?”

  
     His reaction must have given him away, because the person with the familiar voice rushed to his side.

  
      “Arthur, are you okay? Please answer me!” Then something clicked in Arthur’s head.

  
     “Francis?” His voice was hoarse and barely audible, but the person just laughed in joy.

  
     “Yes, Arthur, it’s me, Francis. Oh my God, what did they do to you?”

  
     Arthur just blinked. He had trouble processing what was happening. Could Francis really be there? Or was this some sort of trick to psych him out? He flinched when Francis touched him. Francis hesitated before he grabbed Arthur’s shoulders and turned him around to look at him.

  
     Francis gasped. Words could not describe how miserable Arthur looked. He felt sick. Out of loss of what to do, he leant down and pressed a kiss to his forehead before he hugged him tight.

  
     Arthur froze by the warm touch. This really was Francis. Francis had come for him. Found him. His eyes hurt and steams of tears ran down his cheeks as he hugged Francis closer.

  
     “Everything will be alright now, I promise. I love you Arthur.”

  
     “I-I love you too, Francis.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you were wondering what happened to Matilda and the others, Matilda and Stephen decided to settle thing when Stephen's son died soon after the end of this story. That led to the sollution that Stephen should be King, but when he died, Matilda's son Henry, should take the crown.  
> It may have been a taad too much politics and too little FrUK, but oh well.


End file.
